Sadness, Hope and Yearning
by VisualIDentificationZeta
Summary: Dany's flow of thought as she contemplates her empty womb


TITLE: Sadness, Hope and Yearning

SUMMARY: Dany's flow of thought as she contemplates her empty womb

AN: this takes place in 7x07, _probably_ during Jon and Dany's little moment in that alcove where she told him about her bareness. Originally I wanted it to be during their non-stop sex marathon on the boat, but on second thought I think before they actually had sex or even openly acknowledged they want the same thing works better.

Also, this is written from a really strange POV. It's not traditional 2nd person, but more like Dany talking about herself in vague terms if that makes sense.

I honestly don't know. It's bloody 5 AM and I wrote this in like 10 minutes, but I'm relieved the story wrote itself and wasn't a chore and torture and like pulling teeth as writing has been for the last 7 years since I slammed full speed into the biggest and thickest writer's block of my life.

xxxx

Infertility.

It changes everything. Where before you wouldn't think twice about children when starting a relationship with someone, now everything is about them.

Can you conceive? Will the man you are spending time with, having sex with, be able to triumph over the curse of a hateful woman who punished for foreign deeds the only person who tried to do her good?

Whenever he cums in you, you can't stop yourself from thinking, is it gonna be this time? Will it work? Will his seed quicken today?

The choice of partners is no longer about finding one that will make nights shorter and less lonely, even if you don't want more than sex with him. Instead, ever since you've realised just how much this affects your future plans, every man you now meet, every guy that has even the slightest potential to become more to you than just a stranger or an acquaintance or even an ally, goes through that internal screening: is he a good choice for a father, would I want to tie my life to his and spend the rest of it with him together, are we compatible? Would he give me strong sons or weak ones that would struggle to live in this world that is already brutal enough on the strong?

And suddenly all those other men that you would've perhaps given a chance to immediately fall by the side, are not even considered, are automatically disqualified.

Why waste time on meaningless sex...

And suddenly that one thing that you never gave thought to before, that you never wanted, _children_, are now the most important thing in the world. A thing you can't help but obssess about constantly. And just makes you feel all the more a failure with each new moonblood.

If nothing else, at least bareness has made you realise just how short life is. How quickly it can end. A stray arrow. An infected wound. Loss of grip for just a moment that sends you plummeting to your death hundreds of meters below. Poison in your food. A blade in the dark. At your throat at night in bed. In your kidneys walking through a dark corridor.

Why waste time on something that is just a means of sexual release, on someone to whom you are nothing but a warm body to release into, someone that will never mean anything to you and you to him?

But when you meet that right one, _the one_, the one you are sure you wouldn't mind having your kids look like, that you wouldn't mind seeing first thing every morning and last thing every evening, no matter how rumpled, grumpy and eventually aged, then the silent obssession begins.

He might have an inkling into your thoughts, but he will never know just how deep and passionate your yearning is.

He will never know just how strongly you wish he was right, that you should never drink from a poisoned well, no matter how inviting the water may look.

Would they have raven curls like his, or silver tresses like yours? Purple or grey? It may sound trite and overused and by now just meaningless, but you don't care as long as they _are_.

You're evading your Hand and deflecting his attempts at trying to start a conversation about heirs because you can't bear to think about it, because you know your goal is meaningless, it won't matter if you restore House Targaryen to the throne if it will end when you die because you won't leave an heir behind. All this effort, all these sacrifices, all the blood you've shed and will shed in the future, all the people you have and will lose, will all be for nothing because with your death the throne will again be up for the taking and House Targaryen will forever disappear from the world into memory and eventually even from there.

And you curse your brother for selling you and you curse your husband for getting you with child and you curse the witch for being so vicious and indiscriminate and you even curse _him_ for giving you hope and for giving you ideas.

And when he will finally get the opportunity to finish in you, you will hug his muscular warrior's body tightly to yourself, your eyes gazing unseeingly beyond his shoulder, your mind within your womb and your thoughts with whatever deity will listen. R'hllor, the Seven, the Old Gods, the Drowned God... You don't care. At the same time you are religious and you are an atheist. An opportunist. A mercenary. A mercenary not for gold, but for a family.

_This time. Please. Let it be this time._


End file.
